Page 136 of Hiding in the Outfield

I wave a hand and laugh—albeit hysterically, because I am starting to lose my mind from overtiredness. “Oh, that. That’s nothing. Just a quick redeye. No big deal.”

“So quick and so inexpensive,” he mumbles.

Yeah. Last-minute flights are not cheap. “Good thing you’re dating a hotshot actuary.” I wink. “I’m basically your sugar daddy.”

That gets a huff of laughter out of him. He scrubs a hand down his face. I catch the sight of what looks like a baggage carousel behind his seat. Hopefully, he can get his stuff soon and get to his hotel. He needs to rest before he has to report to the clubhouse. Before he meets an entirely new coaching staff. A new team. With no idea what the atmosphere or vibe will be like.

Ave fucking Maria.

“I, uh, think I might be your sugar daddy now,” he says with a weak smile. “As long as they actually keep me up here.”

Ah, yes. He’s making the big boy league minimum now. If I’m remembering right, I think it’s approaching eight hundred grand. It’ll be prorated based on how much he plays, but considering what minor league players make… I know how much Pao Pao makes, and let’s just say it’s less than forty grand for the year, which is why those boys live with me and pay utilities only. It won’t take many days for Jackson to surpass that.

“See, you can fly your sexy boyfriend over to see you whenever your little heart desires.”

The right side of his mouth hooks up, but his eyes stay sad. “You know it’s not that simple. Even when I was practically living with you, our time was limited. Odd hours after night games, taking advantage of rainouts. Now we have a seven-hour flight between us.”

“Nope. Shush. We are not having this discussion while we’re both exhausted. We’ll talk about this in person. After you’ve had such an incredible first game in the majors that the Jetties’ owner is crying in his office for making the worst trade of his life.”

He grins, but then it goes stiff. His brows crash together. “We’ll talk about this in person?” he asks hoarsely. “After my game?”

I nod, biting my lip against a grin. “My flight leaves in a few hours. So, I’ma need your hotel info, loverboy. Make sure you leave my name at reception so I can get a keycard.”

His features tighten, and then he drops out of view. All I can see is the floor as the phone shakes slightly.

“Jackson?” an alarmed voice rings through the speaker. “Jackson, what’s wrong?”

Um. Who the fuck is that?

The screen swirls violently, and then I’m face to face with—dear God. Who is this beautiful specimen, and why the fuck is he with my boyfriend?

His frown instantly morphs into a smile. “Ah, Frankie—the boyfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Yeah. So, I’m not in the habit of loving when my boyfriend is with gorgeous men I don’t know anything about. Though you are really pretty. So, I can see why he was tempted.”

A deep chuckle fills my room. Ugh, even his laugh is sexy. All right. Who is this Nicholas Galitzine look-a-like.

“I’m Chuck Wentworth, Jackson’s agent.”

“Jackson,” I say loudly. “I have a bone to pick with you. You never once mentioned how hot your agent is.”

Chuck chuckles again. Oh dear. Chuck chuckles. How many chuckles could a chuckling Chuck chuckle… Ohmygod I have lost my mind. I’m really fucking tired.

Everything spins, and then Jackson’s face is on the screen again. His smile is big and genuine this time, but tear tracks stain his cheeks. My heart tries desperately to teleport through the phone to him. My poor baby. I can’t even imagine how overtired and emotionally drained he is after today.

“Well, I’m glad you have this Adonis with you. It makes me feel a hell of a lot better that you’re not alone. Though I’d have preferred him to be butt ugly.”

Jackson’s grin widens. Winning!

“So…you’re really coming here?” His tone is so hopeful, and he’s so much like a little Newfoundland puppy I’m slightly afraid the organ in my chest is going to explode.

“Yeah, loverboy. My flight should land sometime before noon your time.”

A throat clears off camera, and then Chuck’s voice fills my room. “Jackson, why don’t you get me Frankie’s contact information? I’ll make sure he has all the information he needs so you don’t need to think about anything but the game tomorrow.”

Jackson nods, and the small flash of excitement from before is overtaken by exhaustion again.

“Thank you, Chuck. But also…why exactly are you with Jackson? I’m no expert, but I didn’t think this was something agents typically did for their clients. There’s not much to negotiate, is there? Call-ups get the league minimum.”